


Carbon Monoxide and Breakfast Food

by Arenoptara



Series: Jearmin Week 2014 [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breakfast Food, M/M, Protect, basic stuff really, jearminweek, sharing the bed, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1953300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arenoptara/pseuds/Arenoptara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean goes over to Armin's to study for their chem test the next day. Armin gets a bad feeling and asks Jean to stay the night. So he does.</p><p>For Jearmin Week 2014 "Protect"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carbon Monoxide and Breakfast Food

Either Armin wasn't that great a teacher or his “students” just _really_ had a hard time with the subjects. But Armin preferred to think it was the former. He said it gave him a greater drive to evolve his teaching methods to better help, but mostly he felt safer putting himself down than the others.

His favorite student, Jean, never took that crap. And he took every opportunity to praise Armin's teaching methods. Though, Armin admitted he was one of the better students. He only had trouble with chemistry, one of Armin's favorite subjects. Those study sessions usually worked out very well.

Tomorrow began finals week, and of course Jean waited until the last minute to get some studying help, and normally Armin would say no because he was an avid fan of doing work long before it was due, and wanted no part in aiding in the procrastination of others, but it was Jean and he couldn't say no to that face—well, actually, he couldn't say no to the crying emoji Jean sent him through text.

At least he's punctual. At 3:01 he knocks on the door, wearing a big puffy coat and cool shades that somehow make his face even longer than it actually is. He swipes them off and tries to act cool but mostly he's just a dork and Armin bites his lip to hold back a smile.

“I got those shades on the way here actually. What do you think?” Jean asks, folding them up and giving Armin a closer look.

Armin takes them in his hands and looks them over. “They fit you really well.”

Jean raises both his brows once and then moves into the main room, tossing his coat and backpack over the couch, grabbing a soda from the fridge, popping it open and chugging half of it. “Work was torture. And studying usually is torture, but you make it all right.”

“Glad to hear it. I have all my books and notes right here. Did you make a list of specific questions you had? That'll make it easier. Or I was thinking we could go through the entire chapter and I can summarize each bit, and if you're confused on one section we can go through it in detail. I even made a worksheet for each section. You can do them all if you want.” Armin sits down on the floor by the coffee table where his three chemistry books sit, stacked on top of each other, and beside them, his extra thick notebook, and the ten worksheets—double-sided of course.

“Ehh . . . I mean, I don't think I'll need to do all of them . . .” He slowly walks over and sits on the other side of the table. After some thought he moves around next to Armin. Still holding the can, tightly now, his eyes drift over the mass of paper before him wearily. “You really went to town didn't you?”

Armin sighs. “I have to study too, don't I? And the test is tomorrow. So you'll need a miracle. If you had done this earlier, we could have spaced it all out.”

“Uh huh. Well, let's go then, I suppose. I didn't make a list of questions,” Jean admits.

“I expected that,” Armin says, unfazed. He gets up on his knees and picks up the top chemistry book. “This is the simpler of the three textbooks. It explains things easier than the rest. Shame it wasn't on the recommended texts at the beginning of the semester.”

Jean gives a wonky smile. “You bought two extra textbooks?”

“My scholarship paid for it. Uh--” Armin looks at Jean and then moves on quickly because Jean looks a little sad. “All right, so chapter one.”

They make it about three-fourths of the way through before Jean stops Armin. “I remember the last chapters, since we just did them. If it's all right, I'll just look at your notes tonight and then in the morning?”

Armin folds them neatly. “Of course. I made some simpler notes just for you.”

“Oh okay.” Jean takes them and tosses them over by his coat. “So since I'm watching Annie's Wii U while she's out of town, I brought it with me. Wanna hook it up to your TV and play some games? I think she's got Mario Kart 8 and I brought the Wii controllers so we can play Brawl if you want.”

“Do you want to at least eat first? It's been like five hours and you haven't had anything,” Armin says

Jean shrugs. “How bout I set up while you find something?”

He's already ready and playing single player Mario Kart 8 when Armin returns with two plates filled with broken-yolk fried eggs, buttered toast, sausage links, and mimosas. Breakfast food in the evening's a tradition with them, which Jean started because he loves breakfast food more than anyone except maybe Ron Swanson. He shovels it down while Armin nibbles on some toast.

Three hours later Armin falls over and gives up. He stretches his fingers and cracks his knuckles. Jean leaps into the air as he home runs Samus out of the map and wins the game. The scoreboard comes up, and there's Armin's Peach way in the back, clapping like she's got plans for Jean's Marth after the game. Painful, violent plans. Armin turns it off before Jean can ask to go another round.

But that doesn't deter Jean, who has joined Armin on the ground. His mind is still in video game land. “Have you played any Final Fantasy games?” Jean asks, bringing his knees up and then rolling himself up to a sitting position.

Armin takes his time, stretching each limb before moving up. “I'm more of a PC person. I mean, I've only had an Xbox for a couple of weeks and that's because Eren bought it for my birthday. As far as I know, Final Fantasy games don't play on the Xbox. And only a couple on the PC. Not that I've done a whole lot of research.”

“You have an Xbox? Why didn't you tell me? Armin, with my help, we are going to turn this place into a treasure trove of video games.” Jean smiles in satisfaction and Armin can already see plans forming behind his eyes.

“So you're going to be over more, I take it?”

“I don't have a TV so yes. Also, have you played any _Legend of Zelda_ games? Or _Tomb Raider_? _Grand Theft Auto?_ ”

Armin gives him a weak smile. “Uh . . . maybe. _Adventure of Link_ at my grandpa's years ago.”

The hope in Jean's eyes fades, but then he bursts with so much energy, Armin jumps back, startled. “I love seeing people's reactions to games they've never played. Marco's are priceless every time. All right . . . _A Link to the Past_ and _Ocarina of Time_. Maybe the newest _Tomb Raider. Far Cry 3. GTA IV_ , because that's my favorite. Look, I'm gonna go home and make a list and give it to you next time I see you. And since we're both not rich, we can split costs and co-own. Yeah?”

“Sure. Isn't _GTA_ just murder and guns and stealing cars and running over civilians? I think I saw Eren playing that . . .” His eyebrows furrow. “He laughs maniacally when he pins people into columns of underpasses. Or when he tosses around old people. It's a little frightening actually . . .”

For a moment, Jean pauses. “Well . . . not _just_ . . . I mean . . . And you know Eren's messed up more than most people. Look, you have to at least try it. I'm not asking you to carry the second Son of God or anything.”

The blond shrugs, a basic enthusiastic yes for Jean. He leaps to his feet and fetches sodas from the fridge. “Coke or Mountain Dew?”

“Mountain Dew. We'll definitely never get any studying done now,” Armin says.

“In summer that won't matter. For now, think of it as studying the art of video games for that video game history class you're not actually taking. You're gonna span decades.” He tosses a Mountain Dew over. “And in between we'll study school stuff and video games will be our reward. Fifteen minutes of studying for every two hours of video games.”

“Oh, that sounds fair,” Armin says and sips at his soda. “At least for today we got some good studying in. You should pass the chem test easily.”

Jean leans against the bar. “I'll probably be doing titrations in my sleep now.” He already guzzles the entire contents of the soda and crushes the can in his hand. He easily arms it over into the recycling bin across the kitchen. “What's molarity again?”

A little hope dies in Armin. “It's--”

“Nah, I'm just kidding with you. I remember. Now, I just need to look over your notes again tomorrow morning.” He pats his pocket. “Anyway, I should be heading out soon before I'm too tired to drive.”

Something in Armin's stomach turns at the mention of Jean going home. When Jean grabs his coat, it worsens and suddenly Armin's whole body just feels sick, like he's going to throw up but he knows he won't. Like it's shutting down, waiting for the final bang.

“Wait, Jean,” he says as he pulls himself up. “I don't think you should go.”

Jean fixes the hood on his coat and laughs a little. “Why? More video games? I'm tired and it takes 20 minutes to get back. And the chem test--”

“I know. It's just, I got a bad feeling about this.” He swallows, trying in vain to get rid of that slimy feeling in the back of his throat. No matter how many times he swallows it won't go away.

“We in a _Star Wars_ movie? I'll be fine, Armin. I'm not _that_ tired. And the road's will be relatively empty. It's almost midnight and anyone who's still awake is pulling an all-nighter.” He zips his jacket up and takes a few steps closer to the door.

Armin follows, forehead creasing. “That's not it. I just don't . . . I think you should stay. Jean. Please.”

Still Jean shrugs it off. He pulls his keys from his pocket. “Armin. Seriously, I'll be fine. I appreciate the concern, but I gotta go.”

Without thinking, Armin reaches out and snatches the keys from Jean's unsuspecting fingers. When Jeans tries to get them back, Armin grabs his coat front and pulls him away from the door. Jean's playful smile fades. “Armin.”

“I'm serious,” Armin says in a hushed voice. “Please stay. I live closer to the university. I'll let you borrow clothes. I can take you in the morning. Just . . . look, if nothing happens, no harm done, right? I feel really sick and I need you to not go.”

Jean's eyes widen.

“Um . . .” Armin looks away, embarrassed now too.

“Hey . . .” Jean says softly. “Okay. You're right.” He puts his hand over Armin's and pulls it off his coat. When Armin looks at him again, the brown eyes are gentle.

“I guess I should give you your keys back.” Armin puts them in Jean's hand and then walks back to the kitchen to lean on the counter and catch his breath.

“If anything, I should stay cause you don't look too good. You gonna throw up? Should I grab a bucket or can you make it to the bath--”

“I'm not . . . . not actually sick.” Armin twists around and musters a smile. “I'm sorry. You can go. I'm just being . . .”

Jean waves his hand in the air and unzips his coat. “I said I'd stay, so I will. I'll get to sleep longer anyway. Twenty minutes closer to the university. And you said you'd drive me. Carpooling is environmentally friendly, right? You're into that stuff.”

“Yeah,” Armin breathes. “You sure?”

He shimmies out of the coat and tosses it over the couch. “Now _I_ have to convince _you_?”

“No, no. I'll go get you some pajamas. Is the couch okay?”

Jean looks at the couch and his face says no but his mouth says, “Definitely. We can call Marco and make it a slumber party.”

“I think it's a little late. Marco goes to bed early,” Armin says.

Jean goes over and puts his hands on Armin's arms. “Armin, I was joking. You need to lighten up, okay? Everything's okay now. You need to lie down before you burst a blood vessel or something.”

He's about to rebuff but forces himself to instead nod his head. “I'll get some pajamas and blankets. My pants won't fit--”

“That's what my boxers are for.”

“Oh, okay. If you're sure.”

“I usually sleep naked, so no fancy pajama pants is just fine.”

Armin nods again. “Okay. Good.”

Jean smiles and Armin gets out of there before he melts.

They brush their teeth in silence—Armin has an extra toothbrush. He always buys them in packs of two. Saves fifty two cents that way. He also tries very hard not to stare at Jean's ass because it has never seemed so close to before. Just one layer of green fabric . . . He brushes more vigorously and then slips out before anything happens.

In the hall Jean says goodnight. The lights go out and Armin pulls his covers up over his body. And then his head. Usually this got him asleep within minutes, but this time, worry about Jean, and Armin's performance at the door keeps him awake. Eventually he pushes the covers off so he can breathe. The clock on his nightstand reads midnight. Only thirty minutes has gone by. It had felt like five hours. Jean's probably asleep; he was always the first asleep at parties—and those are noisy. With such ripe conditions, he's definitely out cold.

Another thirty minutes go by. Armin flings the covers completely off and tiptoes over to the main room. He takes a peek and sees Jean's open eyes gazing at the ceiling. Armin reveals himself and sits on the arm of the couch by Jean's sock-covered feet.

“Hey,” Jean says, a question in his tone.

“Hey.” Armin taps his fingers on his knee. “Do you always sleep with socks on?”

Wiggling his toes, Jean says, “Yeah. Keeps me warm.”

“Makes me too warm.” He looks at his free toes. “I just wanted to apologize for being so insistent earlier.”

“Don't worry about it,” Jean says, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Sometimes it's nice to sleep somewhere else.”

“Except, you're not sleeping. Sorry. Are you okay?”

“Eh, the couch and my back aren't the fondest of friends, but I'll deal. Just need more time to acclimate.”

“You would have been asleep by now if you'd gone home. I can switch with you. My bed has a nice mattress, and I can't tell you how many times I've slept on this couch after a drunken night with Eren and Mikasa.”

Jean lifts the arm. “Go back to bed, Armin. I'll be out in like five minutes.”

Silence. “Okay. Good night.”

“Good night, Armin.”

So he checks back fifteen minutes later—giving himself a ten minute buffer zone so he doesn't come off as obsessed if Jean is still awake. And he is. Armin hears him grumbling about his back and “this fucking couch made of rocks.”

“Jean?”

“Huh? You still awake?”

“Just getting water, but you sure? I'm totally okay with switching.”

“I'm sure.”

Armin goes back to bed—without the water. It had been a stupid lie anyway.

The clock reads 1:02 when a shadow moves in the doorway of Armin's room. Armin sits up, still wide awake. When he sees the outline of Jean standing there, his heart does this pirouette down towards his belly and then back up again, sticking in his throat. He clears it and focuses on the situation. Now's not the time to think about how Jean has never seen or been in Armin's bedroom, and now he is, wearing just boxers, and Armin's wearing this long oversized shirt as pajamas that can easily ride up and show his white briefs. That's not important. Not important.

“I lied,” Jean says.

“You wanna switch?” Armin says almost in relief. He doesn't want Jean's first night at his apartment to be something rather forgotten about. So far, his hosting was appalling.

“No,” Jean says. Before Armin can say anything, he clarifies. “I don't want to switch, because I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I'm pretty sure the only reason you didn't mind the couch all those times was because you were drunk out of your mind. That couch sucks ass. So, if you're okay with sharing the bed, then I'd rather we did that.”

Armin's heart spins out of control again. Some gargled nonsense sputters out of his mouth and he passes it off as clearing his throat again. “Sure. I don't mind. I've shared with Eren tones of times, and no one can be as bad as him.” That's a lie—the first part at least. Annie has informed Armin that Eren is in fact terrible to sleep with because he never stops moving, talking in his sleep, and not stealing the covers, but pulling them all off and throwing them in the floor somehow with his feet.

But Jean doesn't know any better. He grunts and walks over to the side Armin clears for him and hops in. Without even looking at Armin he rolls over onto his side, keeping his back up like a wall, and goes quiet. Armin stays on his back, hands under his head, forcing himself to not roll over and just stare at Jean's back. To ease his urges, he does the same as Jean and goes on his side to look outward, giving himself a great view of the closed closet.

“Jean, you still awake?” Armin asks after a few minutes. No answer. So he smiles to himself and closes his eyes. Maybe Jean will get some sleep after all. And to make it better, Armin plans to get up early in the morning and make a glorious breakfast, bringing Jean in by the nose.

Just as he settles into a comfortable position, ready to fall asleep, thoughts of a good breakfast swirling in his mind, relief in his now-calm heart, Jean moves and suddenly his arm drapes over Armin. Armin freezes, literally holds his breath, waiting for Jean to say something about it, but silence greets him. Jean's still asleep. But he's pressed himself up close to Armin, his warm breath beating against Armin's neck.

Burying his head farther in the covers, Armin smiles, and eventually drifts off to sleep.

In the morning he untangles himself from Jean without waking him, and wanders to the kitchen. Five minutes later the kitchen is hot and alive with sizzling food and the most delicious smells Earth has to offer to its inhabitants. And it wakes Jean right up. He's still half asleep as he stumbles in. Armin bids him a cheerful good morning right before Jean hunches over and smashes his face onto the counter.

Only the sound of a plate scooching across the counter gets his head up. Eyes still closed, he inhales the scent and then digs in. Halfway through he opens his eyes and finally looks able to function at more than 75%.

“Thanks. Tastes good,” Jean says. He breathes in sharply and opens his eyes wide to stretch them out. “Sorry about last night.”

Armin just keeps eating.

“All my exes have told me I'm clingy in bed. My mother has too.” He winces. “It's just what my body does when I'm asleep.”

“I didn't mind,” Armin says, keeping his eyes on his food. “Anyway, all that matters is you finally got to sleep, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Jean stretches back and groans. “It was nice. You got a nice bed.”

Armin offers a new shirt, but Jean just goes with the one he wore yesterday. He's about to put on pants when it gets a call from Connie. Still in pajamas Armin pauses in cleaning the dishes when he hears the loud urgent tone on the other end. 

“Connie, calm down,” Jean says. “What's wrong? Take it slow so I can understand you.” He waits a few seconds. First his face is confused, but then it slowly pales and he grips the phone tighter. “Really? I . . . no . . . I wasn't there last night. I spent the night at Armin's. Honestly, Connie, I'm fine. You can even ask Armin.”

Armin's heart starts beating fast.

“I'll see you at school. Yeah. Thanks for the call. See ya.” Jean pushes end and just stares at his phone. Armin has to nudge him in the arm for him to remember what's going on. He puts his phone in his pocket. “Uh, that was Connie.”

“I got that. What happened?” Armin asks with a dry mouth.

Jean's still half with it. “Apparently last night there was, uh, there was a carbon monoxide leak at my apartment complex.” He runs a hand through his hair and lets it linger there for a few seconds before letting it drop back to his side. “Four of my neighbors are in the hospital in critical condition.”

“Good thing you weren't there,” Armin says breathlessly.

“Yeah . . .” Suddenly his eyes sharpen and he takes Armin's arms, squishing him a little. Armin just looks at him, flabbergasted, but waiting for an explanation. Jean's eyes have started watering. “Armin, if you hadn't . . . I would have . . . I could be in the hospital right now.”

Armin's mouth opens but nothing comes out.

“You saved my life,” Jean says, dumbfounded. “You . . . Oh my God, I could be dead right now. I could be . . .” He swallows.

“But you're not,” Armin whispers.

“Because of you.” Jean releases Armin and turns away, only to come right back around and wrap his arms around Armin so tightly he can barely breathe. “Thank you. Armin. Thank you.”

In surprise, Armin does nothing at first, arms limp at his sides, eyes wide open. But slowly he sinks into Jean's warmth and his eyes shut. _Jean could have died. Why did I . . .? Why did I stop him? How could I have known . . .? Don't think about it. Don't. What's important is that he's safe. Jean's safe._ He clutches Jean's _Far Cry 3_ shirt.

It finally clicks in Jean's mind they've been holding each other for twenty seconds or more, so he lowers one arm, and then the other and moves back a few steps. His face is as red as the bacon he ate a few minutes ago. Nonsense starts sputtering out of his mouth as he looks away from Armin, embarrassed now though Armin doesn't understand why. He just realized he could have been dead or hospitalized, and hugging a friend was nothing to be embarrassed about. If it was Eren, Armin probably hold on and have to be pried off.

Another thought enters Armin's mind, one that he should push away, but he doesn't because it's true and there's no denying it. He liked holding Jean. He liked comforting jean. He especially liked comforting crying Jean because that means Jean's comfortable enough with Armin to show weakness. And most of all he liked Jean's warmth, his smell. Breathing him in.

And he'll still get to spend time with him. In the car. On campus. In class. In the car again taking him home. They might even deviate. Go to lunch. _I'm getting ahead of myself._ But he's just so happy Jean's alive, he feels like he needs to spend more time with him to properly appreciate just how lucky they all are.

Jean finally puts his pants on and brushes his hair and teeth. The puffy coat goes on, but not the shades, even though it's bright and sunny and happy outside. Armin likes it better this way because he can see Jean's eyes and his face doesn't look so long and horsey and mostly he gets to see his eyes.

Armin grabs his keys and meets Jean at the front door. Jean's looking away at the door handle like he really wants to leave but making no move to do so. And he's not waiting for Armin to do it because he's been over to this place a hundred times and not even one day did he wait for Armin to open the door. He's always been comfortable coming over here. But now there's this awkwardness in the air. It's not particularly bad, but it's new, and Armin's not sure how to deal with it.

“So if there's any problems with your apartment when you go back, or anytime, just give me a call. Maybe I'll get a spare mattress too, just in case. Always good to be ready for emergencies. And I won't be hoping for one, you know.”

That gets Jean's attention. Now he looks at Armin with wide eyes. “What was that?”

Armin rubs the back of his neck. “Huh? Spare mattress. Preparing for emergencies.”

Jean blinks. “Oh . . . well that's smart anyway.” He looks at the door again.

Armin reaches for the door handle, but Jean stops him. And before Armin can ask why, Jean puts his hands on either side of Armin's face and kisses him full on the lips. It's not long, and Jean escapes out the front door before Armin can see how red his face is. Armin doesn't care because Jean has forgotten they're riding together to the university so he'll have to deal with it anyway. And he also doesn't care because his head is floaty and he's not sure his feet are touching the ground.

Eventually his hands get function again and they open the door. Locking the door is another thing. Armin's not sure he remembers how keys work for a few seconds. As soon as he hears the click, he leans his forehead against the door and smiles. Whatever evils the chem test will invariably bring, nothing can ruin the day because Armin is the happiest he's been in awhile. Jean's alive—very much alive. And Armin gets to savor every moment with him knowing that. And that he kissed him. That's important too. Very important.

**Author's Note:**

> [Collab pic by breezy](http://breezerkawaiiart.tumblr.com/post/91715569257/jearmin-week-day-1-protect-in-surprise-armin)


End file.
